Reckoning (The Arotas Trilogy #2)

by Amy Miles

  Malachi sinks to his knees before her. “You can’t give up.”

  “What’s the point?” she cries, throwing her hands up into the air. “Even if Fane and Nicolae do find the prophecy, it won’t do us any good if we can’t read it.”

  His hand grasps hers. “I may not be fluent in this language, but I know a few words. And, what I do not know, we might be able to piece together from some of the texts from my library. This language is not limited to this one text.”

  Malachi draws her chin up to meet his gaze. “I’m not giving up and I won’t let you either.”

  ***

  Head bowed, Malachi’s hair falls like a gossamer veil over his face. Roseline watches him, marveling at the blue-black highlights the candlelight brings out in his hair.

  Black metal frames perch atop his nose, magnifying his eyes as he shifts to study the page before him. She muses that the glasses are used for visual appeal alone. If so, it is working. It is easy to see how any girl could get lost in their smoky depths.

  A silver serpent ring coils around his middle finger. Its red eyes glare at her. Each scale has been expertly etched into the pliable metal.

  “Find something of interest?” He smirks without glancing up. His finger grazes over a large scroll spread across his desk. Stacks of papers and musty books pile around the room, creating a towering maze of ancient knowledge.

  Roseline does not look away. “Just curious.”

  Malachi sits back, stretching his arms high overhead. He rolls his neck from side to side, realigning his upper spine. They have been at this for far too long. Two days straight and they are no closer to finding the answer. “And what would you like to know?”

  “Many things,” she says, sweeping back a dusty tendril from her face. Every inch of her feels soiled by the age-old filth that hangs over the room. “You are a mystery to me, Malachi.”

  He smiles, warming to the subject. “I do love a good mystery.”

  Roseline proceeds, ignoring his quip. “Who are you really?”

  It might just be her imagination, but she would swear that she saw a flicker of alarm pass through him before he stuffed it away, along with his other emotions. All that remains is the usual stoic smile. “We have already been over this,” he reminds her, turning back to his work.

  “No.” Roseline pushes the large leather bound book from her lap. She folds her legs under her. “You have avoided answering any of my questions.”

  Malachi laughs. “You make it sound as if I am hiding something from you.”

  “Aren’t you?” She presses.

  Her eyes are crossed from countless hours digging through books by candle light. She honestly cannot remember that last time she ate. Her nerves are frayed. Her back hunches with exhaustion, but she refuses to back down this time. Deep in her soul, she knows there is something off about Malachi.

  “It is a dull story.” He sighs, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I was created thousands of years ago. I am as old as dirt.” His laugh is sharp, filled with bitterness. When she does not share in his laugh, he clears his throat and continues.

  “I have wandered the earth with no real purpose. I have no family, no one to care for…until you came along.”

  “Why me?” she frowns, hugging her knees to her chest. Her cheek presses to her arms as she watches Malachi.

  “Because you gave me a purpose. A reason to live. I have spent centuries doing odd jobs for my boss. Most of which I am not proud of, but I didn’t care until now.” His response is soft, plucked from the recesses of his heart.

  Roseline contemplates his response. Something in the back of her mind triggers an alarm system. She bolts upright. “You’re one of them!”

  Malachi frowns. “What are you talking about?”

  She stares back at him, unsure if she should be terrified or whooping with joy. “You’re an angel.”

  Chapter 33

  Roseline watches as Malachi’s eyes harden. His expression wipes clean, leaving behind a mask of calm. “What an absurd idea,” he says, turning back to his work.

  “Is it?” she presses, rising to close the gap between them. “You can see in the dark when I can’t. You never seem to sleep, hardly ever eat, and your scent is unlike anything I have experienced before.”

  “You have a Fallen One as your servant. You have an incredible insight into the angelic world and the origins of my brethren, knowledge that has never been shared with any of us. And you know a heck of a lot about the Elders.”

  Malachi clears his throat, shifting his papers into a messy pile. “And that makes me an angel?”

  She slams her hand down on his desk to get his attention. “You claim to be unable to read that prophecy and yet I see your eyes moving easily over the symbols. I know you can read it.”

  He shoves her hand off the scroll, glaring up at her. “Now I’m a liar, as well?”

  She nods. “One of the best I’ve ever met.”

  Malachi’s lip curls with anger. “I have given you a safe place to stay. Helped you find a piece of the prophecy that can help track down your boyfriend and I have risked my life for you. What more do you want from me?”

  “The truth,” she snaps.

  “I don’t have an ulterior motive, Roseline.” His voice rises, echoing up into the vaulted ceilings above. “I am not your enemy.”

  Roseline refuses to back down. Her muscles coil instinctively. “I know you are lying. I just don’t know why.”

  Malachi’s face shifts through varying shades of reds as he visibly struggles for control of his anger. “I’m sorry that you have such a low opinion of m-” he cuts off as the door flings open.

  Nicolae lurches through the doorway, his eyes crazed. Fane follows quickly on his heels. “What is it?” Roseline cries, rushing to the hunter’s side. He falters, falling to the floor as his legs give way. “What’s happened?”

  Nicolae mutters incoherently as he lifts his hand. Roseline watches as his fingers unclench from his cell phone. Dread plummets into her stomach as Sadie’s caller-id picture stares up at her.

  Roseline snatches the phone from Nicolae’s hand. “Hello?” she cries, clinging to the small device. “Sadie? Are you ok?”

  Blood curdling screams pour out of the speaker. Blood drains from Roseline’s face. “Sadie!”

  Her best friend’s screams crescendo and then abruptly cut off. Horrifying silence replaces them. Roseline’s hands tremble. Fane puts an arm around her, offering his strength as she desperately fights to remain standing. Malachi comes around the desk, concern deeply etched into his face.

  “Vladimir is going to kill Sadie,” a trembling voice speaks into the mouthpiece. “He says he will cut out every organ from her body if you aren’t here in twelve hours.”

  “Oh god,” Roseline cries, collapsing into Fane’s arms. “Are you hurt, William?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he grunts. He sucks in air, as if the mere act of speaking is pure agony. White-hot rage boils in the pit of her stomach. Vladimir will pay for this!

  “Hang on, William. I’m coming for you!”

  There is a rustling on the line followed by a grunt of pain. “You heard my message, then?” Vladimir taunts.

  “I got it,” she seethes. Her fingers crack the plastic casing of Nicolae’s phone. “This is between you and me, Vladimir. Let the humans go.”

  His snicker makes Roseline’s vision tint with red. “Now why would I do that? They’ve been such wonderful entertainment.”

  Roseline’s nostrils flare, her hands ache for a weapon. She forces herself to remain calm. “What do you want?”

  “For you to come home, of course. We have some…unfinished business to attend to.”

  Her eyes meet Fane’s. His expression is fearful, but he nods his head, resigned to follow her back into Hell. “I’m coming.”

  “Good,” Vladimir hisses. She shivers as the sensation of snakes slithering over her skin chills her. “We will be waiting.”

&nbs
p; The line goes dead and the phone crashes to the floor from her trembling fingers. Without turning to look at him, Roseline addresses Malachi. “Where are my clothes?”

  Malachi enters her peripheral vision. “You can’t seriously be thinking of going back there. He means to kill you!”

  “Obviously,” Roseline snaps, patting Fane’s arm as she rises to her feet. Her legs are steady and the trembling in her hands is no longer driven by fear.

  “So you will go? For humans?” Malachi snarls with disgust.

  Roseline grabs a fistful of Malachi’s shirt, yanking him toward her. His smoky eyes spring open wide. “Those humans are my friends. They saved my life back in Romania. You are a fool if you think I won’t do the same for them.”

  “As will I,” Nicolae says, rising unsteadily to his feet. Color has begun to seep back into his cheeks.

  Malachi turns toward Fane. “And you? Will you let her willingly go to her death?”

  Fane’s jaw clenches, his chest flexes as he nods. “I will follow Roseline.”

  “You’re all insane,” Malachi growls, pacing before his desk. His hands clench and unclench. “And what of Gabriel? Have you given up your quest to find him, then?”

  “No,” Roseline shakes her head, her heart sick with regret. “I will never give up, but Sadie and William need me. We are going, with or without you.”

  Malachi’s eyes flash. He stares at each of their determined faces. “Fine,” he shouts, kicking at a mound of papers. The pile flutters into the air, spilling onto the already crowded floor. His chest heaves as he fights to regain his calm. “Then I’m going with you.”

  ***

  “People are staring,” Malachi hisses, leaning across the aisle toward Roseline.

  She turns around, casting a glance over her shoulder. Malachi is right. Roseline has garnered the attention of more than one male on the plane, including the handsome steward who is staring expectantly in her direction.

  If she had not been lost to her thoughts, she would have already realized that she has three full drinks and several packages of peanuts sitting in front of her. Yep, the guy is definitely overly attentive to her needs.

  “Did you have to wear that on the flight?”

  Roseline glances down at her crimson corset, leather pants and high heel boots. Whoever Malachi sent her outfit to for repairs did a fantastic job. It looks brand new again.

  Her pale skin pulls taut against the halter as she shrugs. “Why do you care what they think? I didn’t think you liked humans.”

  “Shh,” he hisses, unbuckling his seatbelt and dropping into the vacant seat beside her. “That doesn’t mean you should go around flaunting yourself.”

  She grits her teeth in annoyance. “I’m not.”

  Malachi rolls his eyes. “How am I supposed to keep you safe when you attract so much attention to yourself?”

  “I’m not trying to hide anymore. I want Vladimir to know the moment I set foot in Romania again. I want him to know that I’m coming for him.” Roseline laughs bitterly as she leans toward him. “Besides, I don’t need a bodyguard, Malachi.

  “Oh really,” he snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like you took care of yourself against those things at the caves?”

  She rounds on him, her nails digging into the armrest separating them. “No one asked you to come.”

  His lips purse with disapproval. “It’s my job to watch over you, remember?”

  “No,” she spits back, challenging him. “I don’t, because I don’t even know if you are telling me the truth.”

  He sighs, throwing his hands up in the air. “We’re back to this again?”

  “Of course. It is not like you ever got around to actually telling me the truth. Very convenient, by the way.”

  “Are you kidding me?” he hisses, lowering his voice. “How can you even hold that against me?”

  Roseline unbuckles her seatbelt. “We’ve been on this flight for over two hours and this is the first time you’ve even spoken to me. Now all you want to do is gripe at me.”

  She rises, tucking her newspaper into the seat back holder. “I might need you in the battle tonight, but don’t think for a second that I trust you.”

  Roseline leaves Malachi behind and disappears into the lavatory. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she wonders how anyone could be attracted to her. Purple shadows cling to the underside of her eyes. Her skin is paler than normal. Even her lips appear nearly transparent.

  A sob rises in her throat. She sinks onto the closed toilet lid and buries her head in her hands. Her hair drapes over her face, shielding her from the world beyond this tiny room. Roseline’s lips tremble as she finally allows herself to cry.

  Chapter 34

  Nicolae’s library has become command central for what many of the hunters have dubbed Operation Slay the Vamps. Everywhere Roseline looks, men huddle in small groups. Some discuss the mission while others work to amass a pile of weapons. She spies maces, battle-axes, swords, and an array of guns. She shakes her head at the last one. Haven’t the humans learned yet that guns will only slow an immortal down?

  It didn’t take much coaxing to convince the hunters to saddle up for this epic battle. Never before has there been an all-out attack on Vladimir’s home. Tonight they get to be a part of history.

  The walls of Bran Castle are high and thick, built to withstand cannon fire and military attack from the ground. Small, covered holes remain in the upper terrace walls where arrows were shot down onto an invading army with very little risk to those within.

  Vladimir’s pride in his castle is his biggest weakness. There are ways inside. Roseline has provided Nicolae with all of the plans that the hunters will need to infiltrate the inner walls.

  Enemies have formed a truce in the heat of battle…again.

  The air is thick with anticipation as Roseline turns away from the preparations. She is ill with worry for her friends, for Nicolae’s men and for Gabriel.

  The chances of her surviving the night are slim. Vladimir will no doubt have the entire family gathered in the great room to watch her death. His flair for drama has always erred on the side of gruesome extravagance.

  Roseline has no intention of walking out of that castle without Sadie and William. No matter what it takes, she will save them. Even if that means being the decoy while Nicolae and Fane escape with her friends.

  She paces, stopping frequently to look out of the window. She had thought the journey from the airport to Brasov was unbearable, but waiting this close to Vladimir is pure torture. The sun has mocked her throughout the day, inching slowly across the sky. But now, finally, the sun is setting. It is nearly time.

  Pressing her nose against the window, she watches as her breath fogs the glass pane. She looks to the horizon, wondering where Gabriel is at this very moment. Is he safe? Will he understand why she chose to forgo her search for him, to save Sadie and William? She sincerely hopes so.

  Tears sting her eyes as her throat swells and her lip quivers. She had so little time with Gabriel…

  “Hey, are you ok?” Fane asks, stepping around the table where Malachi and Nicolae continue to discuss attack strategies.

  “Yeah.” She offers him a small smile, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. A chill has settled deep within her soul. “I’m fine. Just anxious to get going.”

  “I know,” he replies, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Waiting is tough.”

  Patience has never been her strong suit and tonight it is just downright painful. Her hands ache for her sword. Her mind begs her to charge the gates of the castle, but it will not be long now. She will have her chance for revenge.

  The best time to attack would have been during daylight hours, when many of her family were still lethargic, but Vladimir has probably sent them all out to hunt, to strengthen their veins with fresh human blood.

  She had recommended to use a small team to enter the castle before sunset, using her as bait while the others rescued Sadie and Willi
am, but Nicolae warned against this. He needed time to mobilize his men.

  Groups of hunters filter in and out of the room now. Roseline has not taken the time to count each one but, by her guess, there are at least one hundred prepped to go. They will need these larger numbers now that darkness is falling and her brethren will be at their prime.

  Roseline sighs. Most of these men will lose their lives tonight. She is surprised to realize this fact no longer brings her a sense of satisfaction. The hunters are not her enemy anymore.